


When It's Raining

by codename_mango



Series: Clarice's Story [1]
Category: Love Island (Video Game)
Genre: Alchemy, Drunken Flirting, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29248443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codename_mango/pseuds/codename_mango
Summary: Seb never thought he'd find such great friends on Love Island. He never expected to have his life changed. He never expected to get so close to Season 2 Runner-up and Season 3 winner, Clarice. Maybe too close. When she parties a little too hard one night, what might happen to their friendship?
Relationships: Seb (Love Island)/Original Character(s), Seb/Main Character (Love Island)
Series: Clarice's Story [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2147631
Kudos: 8





	When It's Raining

I would like to think she doesn't do this on purpose. I would like to think that groaning into a sticky spot on the bar isn't her idea of fun. But maybe I don't know her all that well. Maybe Chelsea does, and that's why she's here. Or maybe her knowing Clarice so well is why I'm here.

"Hiiii, Seb! I'm so glad you could make it!" Chelsea threw her arms around me and sloppily collided into my chest with her face. I pried her off of me as politely and firmly as I could manage, and I don't think she minded too much. "Clarice is-"

Her words cut off when she spun around to find her best friend. I followed her line of sight and saw Clarice, perhaps my best friend too, talking to some pencil of a man. I couldn't help the deep frown that appeared on my face, watching her make eyes at him, watching her trace the collar of her low-cut shirt teasingly. It was a far cry from the emotional wreck Chelsea had described on the phone. Still, Clarice was clearly drunk. She held onto the bar for support, swaying a bit all the same. The man she spoke to was dressed like he was on his way to brunch, rather than the crowded pub he found himself in. His hair had too much gel, his shirt was too crisp, and he was too invested in what Clarice had to say. He nodded enthusiastically at every word that came out of her mouth.

"We should get her home," Chelsea commented, snapping me out of my train of thought. I looked down at her and found her sipping on a brand new drink. Something colorful and no doubt sweet. She smiled at me innocently before wobbling across the room. I followed her, drawn to Clarice like she was the only one there.

Chelsea threw herself at Clarice just as sloppily as she did me. Rather than shove her off, Clarice giggled and hugged Chelsea back. They exchanged a few words, leaving the posh man looking left out. Before he could attempt to salvage the conversation, a conversation that no doubt ended in him getting laid, I made my presence known.

"Hey, Clarice," I said, trying my best not to impersonate Hannibal Lecter.

It hurt a bit seeing the smile disappear from her face when she saw me. Like she had seen a ghost, or perhaps been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She feebly tried to laugh it off. She gave Chelsea another quick hug before gliding past her to hug me. I wrapped my arms around her, and she relaxed. She leaned into me, and it felt like she might fall if I let her go.

She consumed my world. And I just barely looked up to see Chelsea link arms with the forgotten man. He glared as she lead him away, meanwhile she winked. 

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"No."

The car ride was silent after that. If you don't include Chelsea's humming in the backseat. She nodded her head to the rhythm of the song she last heard before abandoning her "date" and following Clarice and I to the car. Clarice sat curled up in the passenger seat, watching the rain assault the window.

I guided the two of them up to Clarice's condo. As soon as we entered the threshold, Chelsea started dancing toward the guest bedroom. She left a trail of her purse, her heels, her coat, and struggled to get her button down blouse over her head as she stumbled around the corner. Clarice bumped me with her shoulder and gave me a small smile before dragging her feet to help Chelsea get to bed. Wasted, but still caring as ever. That sounds about right.

I collapsed onto her dark blue couch. The surroundings are familiar to me. Her home is was dark, but still warm and inviting, with clear Chelsea influences in the design; the plush rug, the walls filled with pictures and Love Island quotes, and the neon light hanging in the kitchen reading " ** _Snack Time!_** ". However, the navy and dark woods make the place feel distinctly Clarice.

I heard a squeal from the room, and a bit of muffled shouting. Before I summoned the will to get up, Clarice came back in with her hair disheveled.

"Chelsea decided she had just enough energy to for an impromptu pillow fight," she explained. She dropped on the matching loveseat, putting too much distance between us. "She lost," she added.

The air was heavy between us. She resigned to watch the rain again, through the large window behind her smaller sofa.

"Chelsea said she was trying to cheer you up," I finally said. "She said you were depressed."

Her expression didn't change. Her focus remained glued to the window.

"... When's the last time you spoke to your therapist?" I asked.

She scoffed. Her melancholy expression twisted.

"Last week. Therapy isn't magic you know. It doesn't get rid of rainy days."

She reached behind her, not looking away from the window, and pulled a bright pink blanket into her lap. She ran her fingers through the soft material. She relaxed slightly. But...

"Look at me," I said softly. Too softly.

But she heard me. I could see it. Her gaze remained fixed. I doubted she was even looking at the rain anymore. I decided to close the distance. It frustrated her, me closing her dark curtains and settling down beside her. When she did look at me, she had a challenging look in her eye.

"Now what?"

I couldn't think of an answer. She got closer. Too close. She braced her arms on my lap and brought her face to mine. Our noses were nearly touching. Her breathing was faster. Or was it mine?

"I'm looking. Now what?"

_I want to kiss you, that's what._

"I think you should sleep. We both need to," I said.

Her fierce eyes turned sad. Disappointed. She looked to be on the verge of tears in an instant. But rather than say anything, she nodded. She leaned back on her heels, and threw her head back. Her chest rose and fell with each steadying breath she took, and I was captured. Without thinking, I leaned forward and kissed her neck.

She froze for a moment. I kept my head in the crook of her neck, resting it there.

"We'll talk more tomorrow. When you're sober."

I felt her shudder, and she wrapped her arms around me.

"Okay."

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first piece I've written in a while. I'm thankful for the LITG folks on Tumblr being so friendly and excited about Clarice as I am. Stay tuned for more!


End file.
